Friday, 31 May 2013

So, the new booker at vivs, Lily, sent me down an ally way
to a surreptitiously hidden start up salon. I arrived atPapillion to
be met by whimsical wrought iron gates opening out to me from the salon.
Luckily it was a mufti day so I was wearing yellow leather sandals with
ballerina straps, black jeans, a white shirt and a baby blue Tag Heuer jumper
instead of my school uniform, hardly notable model street style.

When I entered I met Jen, the
founding hair dresser as she was getting ready to go out for the night in a
black cocktail dress. The fitting was not so much as a fitting but she just
asked me to come in closer to the time of the shoot to have a trim. By the time
I left I had given her my card and my phone number and the 'you're my favourite'
count had reached three.

If one ego boost wasn't enough
for the afternoon as I was heading home someone sitting two rows away from me
gave me glances until she got off the bus at the same stop. "Have you ever
thought about modelling?" I gave her my card and told her to call the
agency. I don't think there is a bigger compliment then a stranger stopping you
in the street and telling you that they will pay money for a picture of you.
Perhaps I should walk around Paddington all dolled up more often, it might
become the secret to my success.

Sunday, 26 May 2013

I know it has been a while since I have posted but I have been so busy with school that I haven't had the chance. In between now and the last post there has been castings, shoots, excitement and lots of pictures to show but not much money made. It will be a bore to go into the excruciating details so hear is just the icing on the cake.

I have done five test shoots. I will admit at this point I was expecting to be paid rather then shuttled around the inner city. For the first I received a beauty gift bag (although I will admit, much better than Colleen's cheap perfume and weight watchers biscuits), the second unlimited hair treatments for a year and the last three nothing at all. I do complain but the second one did give me a golden ticket to hair expo (the fashion week of hair dressing) but I suspect that I would of gone anyway considering how many other girls from Vivien's are going. Any opportunity to get the hair jobs is taken well as they are always something interesting: Annie style wringletts, apple green extensions, foot high towers, conch shaped swirls, hot pink corn rolls with so much hair spray that I cant tell when frantically trying to undo it before running out to get take away what is the bobby pin and what is my hair.

One of the hardest decisions of my little life has been weather to go to Fashion Week or an art trip to Arthur Boyd's studio on the Shoalhaven River for a week. A very difficult decision as it felt like my entire life rested upon it and every direction voiced a different opinion on the matter. I chose art despite swearing to prioritizes modeling. On reflection, yes, I regret it but as all the 'stay in school' advocates said "there will always be next year" (although they will probably be no more enthusiastic as it is my HSC year).

I have joined Instagram under 'sophiewarnervivs'. "Follow me" as just about everyone says. So far it is going well and I am starting to see what all the fuss is about with my followers climbing to 100.

After over eight months I have finally gotten the pictures from Christine. I emailed the photographer, waited two months for him to say that he was in New York and didn't have the pictures, emailed Christine, waited for her to reply, sent her a USB through the post, got a call saying that the letter had torn, waited for her to send another one and finally, fine-all-y here they are:

Jo Candelaria has sent me cuts-outs of the third test shoot that had been published in beauty industry magazines. Although I didn't particulary like these ones It seems that everyone else does, curious.

And, as a first, one of the photographers has sent in their pictures within the month! It is ridiculous the number of people who say two weeks but will not give you anything until you chase them to the point of harassment. Here is proof that my growing cynicism should be quashed.

I feel that each of my photo-shoots is getting progressively better despite no increase in actual work. The above and the latest ones I am especially proud of as they soften the planes of my face into something that is beautiful rather then shocking. Some of the previous ones were really raw. With each job I do something different and learn something new. I look forward to showing off my new pictures for prospective clients and hopefully there will be more good news to report.

Saturday, 19 January 2013

After a decisive dry spell, on the 17th I took the morning off to again visit Lux Studios along with every other model in Sydney. 15 minuets early and the line was around the corner, five people wide. I changed from birkenstocks to black suede stilettos and the line grew by seven. In the intervening time I noticed the shearer breadth of people. As well as the models from New York to London, from fellow starters that I had seen in my development years to international beauties; there where cameras and reporters form Channel 9 and the Sydney Morning Herald. I still had no idea what I was here for as the call sheet had only the address and phone numbers although I was sure that it was the most important casting so far.

At a quarter past with the line now reaching into the hundreds we where ushered in 10 at a time to be seated in rows along a runway in a room lined with the words 'David Jones' and the pressure mounted. I realised that I hadn't practised my walk and that I nearly didn't bring my heels. I had 30 people in front of me yet to walk, watch and compose myself. In that time I noticed four things: (1) Many of them where asked to walk faster mid walk but still not walk fast enough then be asked to walk again. (2) The comp cards where being put into three piles; yes, no and maybe. (3) The men wore chinos or jeans and tight t-shirts, the women wore short cheap cotton dresses in black or white. (4) While we where all waiting three girls came in and where aloud to go before those who where waiting. They had their pictures taken with casters and where aloud to chat with them before walking, one giving each a peck on the cheek. I assumed that they where girls who where invited back form last year (and no Miranda Kerr was not there).

When it was my turn everything that I had been told was forgotten and I clopped along without comment form the casters. I was not asked to walk faster and I did not see which pile I went into.

From there I walked back to Town Hall and took the train to Milsons Point and Wild Life Hair Salon, apparently one of the best in Sydney with one of the best views in Sydney. Out the glass back wall was the Harbour Bridge and Luna Park. They called back in one day to say that I was wanted.

On the day I woke at 7 to arrive early at the studio in an old paint factory although no need as the key was not retrieved until 8:30. The wonderfully English Miss Jayne Wild and her team of 'popets, angels and darlings' blowdried by hair in the carpark to keep on schedule. I was pleased to know that Chanel a fellow ex-development girl was to be their with me as well as four new friends from other agencies. Chanel and I had hair pieces her in green, I in grey. Mine was teased from the top of my ears to the the bottom of my chin, to good visual effect although I spent so long in the shower washing the glue and hairspray out that my fingers wrinkled.

Being the first one to start I was the first one to finish and while calling the lift home Jayne offered to take me home on her way to pick up her suit case and go to the airport. We drove through Newtown, chatting in her Mercedes Benz.